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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657695">Get (Hello) Fresh with Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn'>MayGlenn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Maeglin's Hobbit Birthday Ficlet Gifts [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Kyle and Max are soft boys and Liz loves them, M/M, Multi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:00:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26657695</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayGlenn/pseuds/MayGlenn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As a rule, Liz did not lift a finger in a kitchen that was not her father’s. They were all usually too busy with their nonstandard schedules to take meals together, anyway, and had no reason not to eat out a lot. Kyle’s food rules and fad diets were dizzyingly complex, so he definitely always cooked his own food, when he did cook, and Liz was generally pretty easy-going with Max’s limited cooking abilities, which meant a lot of frozen and boxed food, augmented with a frozen vegetable here or there.  </p><p>But once in a blue moon, their schedules did line up, and even more rarely, they actually had food to cook—this time, it was a free Blue Fresh Hello Apron or whatever that Isobel had sent them a coupon for. Max and Kyle, knowing their matching days off were coming up, had bickered over the options on the website until they decided on one that wasn’t quite Keto but seemed healthy enough for Kyle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Max Evans/Liz Ortecho/Kyle Valenti</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Maeglin's Hobbit Birthday Ficlet Gifts [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1939471</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Get (Hello) Fresh with Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/larenoz/gifts">larenoz</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>From Larenoz: I really see a super domestic vibe between them, especially Max and Kyle. One of my fav HC is Kyle getting physically boxed in by Max and really unexpectedly getting turned on by it. Like Kyle is standing at a kitchen or bathroom counter and Max comes up behind him and plasters himself to Kyles back, arms tight to Kyles side, hands on the counter. Liz watching and going damn that’s hot.</p><p>I tried to get as much of your suggestions in here as I could! Thanks for giving me a chance to write these three together!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Liz watched from her desk as Max and Kyle (tried to) cook a meal kit together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As a rule, Liz did not lift a finger in a kitchen that was not her father’s. They were all usually too busy with their nonstandard schedules to take meals together, anyway, and had no reason not to eat out a lot. Kyle’s food rules and fad diets were dizzyingly complex, so he definitely always cooked his own food, when he did cook, and Liz was generally pretty easy-going with Max’s limited cooking abilities, which meant a lot of frozen and boxed food, augmented with a frozen vegetable here or there.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But once in a blue moon, their schedules did line up, and even more rarely, they actually had food to cook—this time, it was a free Blue Fresh Hello Apron or whatever that Isobel had sent them a coupon for. Max and Kyle, knowing their matching days off were coming up, had bickered over the options on the website until they decided on one that wasn’t quite Keto but seemed healthy enough for Kyle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once cooking was underway, things went mostly smoothly. Max and Kyle waltzed around each other, working in tandem, laughing and touching, while Liz pretended to be doing work and mostly watched. They were really sweet together. They teased like brothers, which she only was reminded of because it was how she and Rosa were in the kitchen: knowing enough about the final dish to be helpful but definitely also enough to henpeck the other mercilessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing with that much oil?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s olive oil, it’s good for you! It says to put it in the pan!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not in those quantities it doesn’t! Do you know how much 1-2 tablespoons is?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Liz went back to her report, chuckling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max won this argument by boxing Kyle in between the refrigerator and the cabinets and kissing him into compliance. “I’ll go running with you tomorrow. I promise,” he might have said, but Liz was pretty sure it was just the kissing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It turned out, to everyone’s surprise, that Max was the stickler for the recipe, while Kyle, who knew vaguely what he was doing in the kitchen, had a more freewheeling style. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know we could make this healthier by halving the amount of bread crumbs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kyle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’ll still taste good! We could rice some cauliflower, toast that in the oven, and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you and your riced cauliflower!” Max complained. “Fine! You take care of that.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great!” Kyle said. “Fine!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next outburst came when something was coming out of the oven. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is hot and this is heavy, Valenti, please move,” Max groused, and a “Aw shit!” followed this up, and after that a clang as something hit the counter, and an “Ow, fuck!” and “Put that under water!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything okay in there?” Liz called. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Burned my finger. That was dumb,” Max said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle held Max’s hand under the tap, running cold. He was in Dr. Valenti mode, laser-focused on the problem. He held Max’s huge, meaty hand in his with a tenderness that might have surprised others, but never Liz. “What’s the pain level? I’ve got a burn cream for—wait, can’t you heal yourself?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max batted his eyelashes. “And miss out on this TLC?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle frowned at Max. “Considering this is on your jerking off hand, letting this heal the old-fashioned way might take more time than we want it to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we—</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need his hands!” Liz called. “Long as his mouth works!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kyle licked his lips suggestively, and Max actually giggled and blushed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously, I got this, Valenti. You go worry about the quinoa—and </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>skimp on the cheese!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t stop meeee,” Kyle said, prancing off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before the meal was finished, Liz stepped in to help clear some of the dishes away and pour the bottle of wine she had picked up to pair with the meal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve gotta plate it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am plating it!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like it shows in the picture, Kyle! Artfully!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Definitely like brothers. Max wasn’t gruff so much as he was whining at Kyle, and Kyle just got snippy in turn. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Liz let it happen, sipping her wine and setting the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they were so cute when they came out with the three plates, Max setting one in front of her, both of them looking immensely proud. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, it looks great on the plate,” Liz commented, barely able to keep from laughing at how they hung on her every word. “It’s beautiful. Smells great. You guys did amazing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She praised every bite, and kissed them each after a sip of wine. They had a narrow round table that allowed them to sit close together while they ate, each resting a hand on the person to their left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m mostly proud you guys didn’t kill each other in there. And that this is edible. Turns out the compromise of Valenti skill and Evans sense of taste produces something edible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a mean drunk,” Kyle said, folding his arms. “You liked the tempeh meatloaf!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t start this again,” Max said, refilling Kyle’s glass with the last of the wine. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fanfic was not brought to you by Hello Fresh.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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